


Fear and Vengeance

by Fallencellist



Category: LazyTown
Genre: Child Abuse, Murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 19:26:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9457220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallencellist/pseuds/Fallencellist
Summary: A sneak peek into Robbie/Glanni's past as a young child. Warning: contains child abuse, violence and murder.





	

“Glanni, ég mun sparka rass þegar ég fæ að þér!” That voice, **his** voice. Each syllable brought rushes of cold dread and aching fear. **He** was coming up the stairs, the steps stopping hard against the stairs, echoing against the exposed wood as they ascended, closer and closer. 

Glanni curled into himself tighter, pressing his knees against his chest, tightly cupping his hands around his ears. If he couldn’t hear **him** maybe **he** would never find the closet. It was his favorite place to take a moment away from the harsh words of his parents, the constant arguing and… the pain. It was a small linin closet, the bottom shelf just barely big enough for the young boy to push himself into the back, hidden in the darkness next to a small chest that contained important documents. Nobody found him there, and he would only leave the comfort when things became quiet. 

Hours would be spent, curled close to himself, doing his best to block out the noises and the fear with his hands. It was too much—always too much for him to handle. They would argue over everything from small things like who put the dish in the sink to huge things like what they were going to do with Glanni. 

He was never wanted. His father didn’t want him and his mother constantly made it clear he was a mistake. Just one big mistake she had to live with. It would have been better if he was never born: his parents wouldn’t have to deal with him, and he wouldn’t be in this hell hole suffering every moment. 

And it was made clear every day he wasn’t supposed to be born: his mother often ‘forgot’ to get food for him, and would often give him some beverage that tasted funny, causing him to struggle to keep awake, and often ended up with him getting terribly sick. 

And his mother was not the biggest problem. Glanni feared nothing more than his father. Every day after work his father would come home, and Glanni would quickly hide, scarcely showing his face anywhere near the man. He was terrified. Every time that man came home it brought a cold fear through every fiber of the boy’s being. 

That was exactly what was happening this day. His _father_ had come home from work, angry and drunk. From the loud words exchanged between the two adults he was fired again. And that meant another “session” with the unwanted child. For being unwanted, he sure used Glanni as a punching bag—literally. 

“Get out here you little shit!” The large man yelled, slamming open the door not too far from the closet the small child hid in. Glanni pressed himself closer to his knees, silently attempting to calm his rushing heart in fear it was loud enough for his father to hear. Each stomp painfully slammed into his ears, shaking every nerve in his body. Hell was home and it was coming for him. 

_It’s safe in here…_ Glanni repeated in his head, _he won’t find you in here. It’s safe…_ He had only his thoughts to reassure those terrible moments as he held his breath. Waiting in silence for safety to settle in as he hid in his safe space. 

It wasn’t safe anymore. 

A harsh light illuminated the confined space, exposing every object inside the closet, including the small child. 

“There you are!” The adult’s voice broke every bit of control Glanni had. Tears spilled out of his eyes, a scream catching in his throat when a bone-shattering grip seized his small wrist. Roughly he was yanked from the hiding spot and thrown to the floor. 

The boards creaked with the impact, the scream finally breaking out of his tiny throat, “Vinsamlegast!” Glanni tried to back away, only getting a boot to the face, “Nei!” 

His father snorted, before jamming his foot into the fragile rib cage of the boy, “Ríða þér!” Then he picked the child up by the shoulders, promptly slamming him into the wall. 

The pain become unbearable, eventually everything growing cold and numb through each punch and each injury brought upon the small frame. Eventually, Glanni was released, collapsing into a bleeding and bruised pile of flesh. 

Tomorrow would be the same… it never got better… 

His father snorted, calling him pathetic and a waste of air before clumsily making his way back down the stairs, more than likely to get another drink. Once again alone, Glanni curled up, letting out as many sobs as his body would let without the pain rising to an even more unbearable state. 

Everything hurt, physical pain blending in with the emotional distraught creating a conception of complete agony. Still, Glanni dragged himself with one arm towards the small room that was his. He didn’t want to spend more time out in the open in case his father would try for round two—or his mother would find a reason to belittle him. 

Deep inside his small heart, something was growing—something dark and dangerous. Anger flickered in his mind as he pulled himself into his room, crawling up onto the near rock-hard bed. One day he would get back at that man—he’d have his sweet revenge. 

Vengeance would be his. 

________________________________________________________ 

A grin plastered to his lips, twisted into a cruel curl. Everything was rushing through his mind, his blood feeling hot. It was almost euphoric with the rush of adrenalin and the excitement that made him quiver. It was all so thrilling, so exhilarating! Finally, revenge would be served on a blood-stained silver platter. 

All those years of suffering through the pain and the torture at the fool’s hands had piled up, pressuring down any glimmer of hope in the young boy. Now, years older and out on his own there was only one thing Glanni had to wrap up before leaving. 

It had to be settled. 

It was nighttime, the usual time for the old man to be just heading home to start another late-night argument with her. The perfect time to strike. 

The grin grew, straining his facial muscles. Oh, it was all so exciting! Glanni expended most of his energy in the moment to not burst out into laughter: he had to save it to watch as the life left those nasty eyes. Sweet revenge. 

As predicted the idiot was stumbling through the streets heading to his half functional car—if it could be even called that. He fumbled with the keys, before they slipped out of his hands, “Skít!” 

Leaning down to grab them, he was met with a young slender hand picking up the jingling keys. His harsh eyes turned to the person, scrutinizing him. 

A smile was met to the man, offering out the keys, “You dropped these.” The faux smile was kept even as the man studied him like he was someone who just insulted his mother. 

“I know you…” The older man pointed to him, a scowl growing on his lips, “Glanni…” he almost spat out the name, “You little brat showing your face here after all those years just up and leaving—after your mother and I gave you a home and-” 

He was quickly cut off with a harsh slap from Glanni, the smile completely vanished into a sneer, “Shut up!” It was Glanni’s turn to spit, “You gave me nothing! The only thing you gave me was pain and broken bones!” 

In an instant Glanni relaxed, his voice lowering back to down to a level volume, “But, I’m not a complete ungrateful little brat,” he glared towards the man, before softening his gaze, “I came to give you something.” His lips once again curled into the smile, concealing the darkness that lurked. 

“You,” his father snorted, “Want to give me something? Maybe you did learn something after you ran away like a coward.” 

In a flash, the look in the steely blue eyes changed: pure anger. A hand smoothly reached into his pocket, pulling out the pink pocketknife, “I’m not a coward…” Venom dripped from each word Glanni spoke. 

Then, the blade was shoved cleanly into his father’s gut, ripping through flesh and organs. He dragged the tool up, exposing more and more of the entrails, cutting through connective tissue and muscle. Everything was cut—it had to be. 

“I just came to finish the job your liver couldn’t…” Glanni purred, leaning in closer to his father’s ear. The blade only stopped where the ribs started, his voice a hushed whisper, “You should have killed me when you had the chance, faðir.” Swiftly the blade was extracted from the flesh, before returning inside, stabbing into any place the blade could slice through. 

In and out. Over and over it was brought in and out of the flesh, leaving bleeding gashes in the man’s body. 

“I’ve waited so long to end your sorry existence,” Glanni sneered, finally leaving the warm metal of the knife out of the flesh, letting it rest by his side. He laughed, taking his free hand and cupping it around his father’s cheek, “I always wished to get out of that place, to never see you again, but,” he dug his nails into the man’s skin, “It changed over time. I wanted to see you writhe in pain, to see the light leave your eyes.” 

“Fucking…” his father coughed up blood, the breaths seeping from his lungs becoming weaker and weaker by the second, “brat.” 

“Don’t waste your final breaths,” Glanni hushed his father, giving a soft kiss to the man’s forehead, “Just die, leave this world with one less asshole.” 

“You’re no better than me,” the man laughed, spitting a bit of the blood on Glanni, “You’ll end up just like your real father: a criminal and a crook…” 

“What?!” Glanni’s eyes went wide, but before he could get another response the eyes of the one he called father so many years, faded into a glaze, leaving nothing but darkness in his eyes. 

“You…” He dropped the body to the floor, staring in disbelief at the flesh that was just alive a few seconds ago, “You weren’t my real father? All this time you lied to me…” his eyes trailed to the sky, a thin frown forming, “Which means my real family is out there somewhere…” 

The steely blue eyes turned to the corpse once more, “Fuck you… I’ll find him. He may be a criminal, but he’ll be better than you!” He spit on the body before turning away. His eyes were narrowed in a glare, still feeling the anger bubbling inside him: he had a new quest. With the new knowledge Glanni had one goal in mind: find out who is real father is, and meet him. 

It was too late to go back not becoming like his real father—if what his so-called father said was true: already he had committed the worst crime known to the area: murder. What was the point of going back? 

The only path to take now was forward. 

First stop, MayhemTown.


End file.
